He held her hand In India.
He had been bickering with Scott when he'd felt the first tremor. What had come next was still a blur— a mess of bodies, a head rush of adrenaline, and a blast of heat.
They'd been escorted to the bunker side by side with Jason somewhere in front. And at some point along the way, sometime after the second turn of the hallway, she'd grabbed his hand.
It took them five minutes to get to where DS were ushering them, and in those five minutes he ignored the way in which her nails dug into his skin.
When his heartbeat finally returned to normal, her hand was still in his as she'd screamed in Fred's face— her tone was a new one. Differing from the stern words she'd come to use with diplomats, this… this was her being a mother.
Although he'd missed her lead agent's response, the face she made when she'd turned to him, and the worry in her eyes, said it all.
His hand moved to her back. "It'll be okay," he'd assured.
Nadine took his place next to her, so he could make a few phone calls, but he could feel her want to hover.
And when he saw her get in Fred's face again, pestering him about going back out there into the dust and rubble, he'd wished they'd gone to Turkey.